


Undone

by ceria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dubious Consent, Gideon Prewett/Kingsley Shacklebolt, M/M, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin - Freeform, things are not quite what they seem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceria/pseuds/ceria
Summary: Sirius Black is captain of a pirate ship, Kingsley Shacklebolt is first mate for Lucius Malfoy. Order members Remus Lupin and Gideon Prewett are pulled into an adventure that ends at the Isla de la Muerta.





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> OMG. I used to have an RP partner _years_ ago; she loved Kingsley and I developed a barely-mentioned, dead OotP member to break Kingsley's heart.
> 
> So we have an entire series of Kingsley/Gideon stories that will never see the light of day because most of them were co-written and therefore not mine to post. But this one was a random one-off when I was just getting out of the PotC fandom, so have a very random crossover with one rare pairing and one popular pairing. 
> 
> Written for harry_holidays on LJ back in December 2006.  
> Backdated and posted in 2021

Captain Lucius Malfoy was content. A rarity, to be sure, but the crew accepted their luck quietly. He stood on the quarterdeck, wind blowing through his hair while he watched his capable first mate hand out the orders for the day. If it wasn't for the compass that he refused to share with anyone, his first mate would be at the helm. However this compass, which didn't point north, guided him toward treasure. He wasn't willing to let Shacklebolt handle the compass.

Instead, he kept First Mate Shacklebolt entertained with their latest swag. He'd snagged a handsome treasure two weeks ago when he sunk the _Exchequer_ heading to Cairo. Included in the loot was a young man with bright red hair. According to the ship's roster, his name was Bill Weasley. Malfoy had heard of Weasley, but had never met him before finding him battling on the deck when they attacked. He was considered a noteworthy warrior, but more importantly, a curse breaker. He _would_ help Malfoy with the Aztec treasure – in exchange for his life. A fortunate find indeed.

There had been enough perishables aboard the _Exchequer_ to satisfy his crew, and the promise of torture thrilled the carnal natures of his men. Malfoy would have been satisfied with that booty.

However, a second ship had appeared off the bow that morning, white sails reflected by the full moon just before it gave up the sky to the rising sun. He had given into the requests of his crew, and let them ravage the passengers on the merchant ship. There, in its hold before they sunk it, they had found a gaunt, sick man lurking in the dark. 

He had been one of the few people the crew left alive, so Malfoy brought him back to his ship. He had intended to let him heal some, then let the crew kill him for fun. Malfoy, following Crabbe and Goyle into his hold, had been privy to the look of sheer panic that crossed Weasley's face. He had _recognized_ the sick man. That information alone made it worth Malfoy's energy to keep the second prisoner alive.

Smiling at the memory, Malfoy checked the compass again; confident they were almost to the Isla de la Muerta.

Duties finished for the moment, Kingsley casually made his way to the galley. Malfoy let him care for the original prisoner as long as it wasn't on the captain's time. After finishing his dinner, Kingsley nonchalantly stretched and announced he was off duty the rest of the night. No one except Malfoy would challenge his proclamation.

Kingsley had sworn, upon seeing the pale red hair, blue eyes and masculine body dragged into the hold that no one else would touch him. So far, no one had dared his wrath. It was his job to mete out punishment as well as rewards. Kingsley _rarely_ rewarded a crewmember.

Malfoy had ignored his interest in Weasley so far, assuming Kingsley was toying with the man. Weasley's spirit remained unbroken, though Kingsley, by now, had learned to bend it around his will. 

Cock hardening at the thought of spending some time alone with him, Kingsley walked straight to the hold. He made his way inside without a light, the moon was almost full and he stepped around the sickly man tied up on the near side of the hold.

Weasley looked up at the footsteps, "Oh thank Merlin you're here. What's the lunar phase?"

For a moment, Kingsley felt his heart stutter at the warmth of Weasley's greeting. Then the words, as well as the look of utter terror on his face, settled into his mind.

"Lunar phase?"

"Damn it, Shacklebolt. The moon. Is it full tonight?"

"Nay, that was last night, 'tis waning now. And I understood the term, just not the reason behind it."

"Then we're safe," he sighed, nodding toward the other prisoner. 

Kingsley eyed the sallow man that lay on the deck. He was tied from neck to ankle, practically wrapped solid with rope. Hell, _Kingsley_ wouldn't be able to move in those bindings. "Safe? From him? What could that slip of a man do?"

Sighing, Weasley nodded, "He is an acquaintance of mine. I've known him for some time now."

Kingsley looked at the sad face of his captive, "And you feel honor bound to protect him why?"

"You're a merc, Shacklebolt, paid to run Malfoy's crew. How can you question my honor, when you have none to speak of yourself?"

"Do not speak of honor, Weasley. You know nothing of it." Once upon a time, before joining Malfoy's crew, Kingsley knew of honor. It had been forgotten though during the time he spent on this ship.

" _I_ know nothing of it? How many defenseless men have you killed these last few weeks? How many people have died in your search for Cortez's treasure?"

"None that you care for, you told me that yourself last week."

"Shacklebolt, you're a talented wizard, I've watched you. You could be so much more, if you only walked away from this. Choose another way."

Kingsley laughed, mocking him, "Easy words for a pureblood, a man of money and education. You've lived a life I know nothing about."

"My family is not rich. What I've made, I made for myself. We are considered eccentric among the elite, only barely tolerable as purebloods. We are not like the Malfoys of society, piranha that eat away everything good until only some twisted version is left."

"I see what you're doing, Weasley, you try and give hope where none exists. You would never accept me outside of these bonds."

"And you will never know if you do not try."

"But why should I? When I have everything I want at my fingertips?"

"Forcing yourself upon me isn't truth."

Kingsley laughed sharply, "Who speaks of force? You've begged for it each time."

Weasley's face flushed a bright shade of red, hidden within the faint dusting of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. Two nights ago, Kingsley had excited him to such a degree that he left Weasley begging. It was a pleasant memory for Kingsley and he ignored the twinge of guilt that Weasley's words caused.

Thinking about that was enough to make Kingsley want to end the pointless conversation. Setting his wand out of reach, he pulled Weasley up by the shreds of shirt he still wore. Pushing him against the wall, spreading his arms and holding them against the chains that bound him, Kingsley leaned in slowly, inhaling his scent.

He turned his head away; it had been the same for the past week now. At first, Malfoy had sent his first mate down to intimidate him, and it had worked for the first few days. He kept a tight pretense that he was Bill Weasley, afraid they would kill him if they realized he wasn't.

His nephew had been sick the day the _Exchequer_ left port for Cairo, so Gideon had taken his place, a last-minute decision for a much-needed vacation. Being captured by pirates was _not_ the adventure he expected to find.

After Gideon endured a week of endless questioning, Shacklebolt, frustrated with not getting any more information, leaned in and kissed him, threatening so much more with his lips. To Gideon's eternal shock, he could barely breathe, more excited than revolted by it. As Shacklebolt realized it hadn't worked, he pulled back, hands cupping his jawbone to look at him.

 _Gideon_ had initiated the second kiss. He had softly licked Shacklebolt's lips, inviting a bit of tenderness, and Shacklebolt had responded similarly, gently pushing him against the wall, covering his body, devouring it with nips from teeth followed by gentle licks from his tongue.

Within moments, they were thrusting against each other, pelvises twisting for friction. Gideon had wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Kingsley, but the chains that bound his wrists weren't long enough. The manacles tied to his wrists ran through a pulley on the wall above and to the sides of his head. He could pull his hands even with his shoulders, but no further across his chest or down. 

It had made for some awkward sex that night, with Gideon forced to hang onto his own chains for balance. However, it hadn't stopped them that time. Or the time that followed. Kingsley had unchained him to eat, to use the chamber pot, even to clean himself a few times with a bucket of seawater and a dingy rag. But Shacklebolt refused to leave him free. 

A smart enough man to admit his own faults, Gideon knew he was in trouble the moment he had begun looking forward to evening and Shacklebolts' visits. Nothing good could come from this, though Gideon refused to give up completely.

Shacklebolt laughed softly, making him open his eyes and concentrate on the present. 

"Pointless conversation, anyway," Shacklebolt muttered into Gideon's neck, licking the exposed collarbone. Gideon arched his back away from the wall, waiting for more. Kingsley quickly shed Gideon's breeches, fumbling with his cock for a moment; then Kingsley braced himself against the wall, arms spread wide. Hanging onto Kingsley's forearms, Gideon hoisted his legs up and around Shacklebolt. He was sore, and dirty from two weeks in the hold without a proper bath, but he willingly gave himself. Shacklebolt, the damn bastard, was correct on that account. As Shacklebolt slowly slid inside, he groaned appreciatively. At least Shacklebolt had found something to ease the passage this time.

Kingsley groaned as he thrust inside one last time, spilling inside Weasley as his muscular legs tightened around him. It scared Kingsley to think about how much he wanted this.

Kingsley, shaken by his desire to murmur endearments while kissing him, realized this obsession _had_ to end. He unwrapped his hand from around Weasley's cock, leaving him hard, and shoved his legs to the ground. If he continued, Malfoy would kill Weasley, whether he needed him or not.

He watched Weasley – freckles starting to fade from lack of sunlight and covered with sweat from their recent activities – take a deep breath and lean back, body shaking with need.

If Kingsley continued to spend time with Weasley, if he continued to pursue the _feelings_ the man brought out in him, Malfoy would kill them both. Kingsley knew it as sure as he knew his name. 

He wasn't ready to die, no matter how good the sex was. Glancing up, he could see the lust dying in the blue eyes watching him. Unwilling to answer the questions, Kingsley tucked himself back into his breeches, and stumbled out of the hold.

"Sail ho," rang out a strident voice as he climbed out of the hold. Phrases such as that quickly burned any feelings away, leaving room only for anger. And anger was far better than what he had felt below deck. Anger he could channel into something safe. 

Kingsley sent the nearest crewmember to rouse the captain while he took the rungs two by two to reach the helm. Calling out to run up the sails, two wizards scurried up the rigging. Any wizard worth his salt could cast a spell to see the approaching vessel. It would only be moments before Kingsley knew who was there.

Gringotts must be desperate, Sirius thought. They were rather vague about the location of their curse breaker, but not so vague on the importance of finding him – and how many Galleons they were willing to spend to have him back. Returning the curse breaker alive to England was worth taking the job and going home. Somewhere he hadn't been for fifteen long years.

They'd owled him that the _Exchequer_ was under attack in the North Sea, which could only mean one thing – the French. For a chance at striking those bastards, Sirius would willingly forgo the reward. However, that would make him a privateer, and not a pirate.

Moreover, what better reason to strike at the French than to hope that the _Exchequer_ had been attacked by the very man he sought; Lucius Malfoy.

Three years in jail was enough to drive a man insane. Hell, Azkaban usually drove its prisoners insane in months. But survive it Sirius Black had, and for one reason only - revenge. 

Malfoy would pay for killing everything Sirius ever cared about, the bastard would pay with his life. It was only fair - after all, his family, his love, and his best friend all died beneath Malfoy's wand.

His only advantage was that Malfoy assumed Sirius dead as well. And Sirius, normally an impatient man, had spent much of that time plotting retribution. He even spent a year acquiring a crew and training them. He stayed away from English and French shores until he was confident of his crew's skills, envisioning each night what fear would look like in Malfoy's eyes. 

He dreamed of Avada Kedavra. 

For the last several months he'd chased Malfoy with a vengeance, usually reaching the last reported site long after Malfoy and his crew of miscreants had departed. But Sirius had hope this time, a tingling in his bones that signified change was coming.

After three years locked in a cell that Padfoot could cross in two steps, Sirius welcomed some change. If he could escape from Azkaban, he was confident that the winds of change had finally begun to blow his way. It was time to make Malfoy pay.

Shaking with need, he closed his eyes. He needed off this ship - he needed away from the devil that stole his soul. Soon they would begin to use Lupin against him. He was sure Kingsley knew he wouldn’t give up any further information. His usefulness was almost over.

"Lupin?" he whispered, "Remus?"

Struggling with the ropes that bound him, he slowly rolled over, opening bright brown eyes. "Do I know you?" he asked. 

"Weasley, Bill Weasley. You know me from the Order."

"You don't look like Bill."

"I believe you've been hit on the head, there's dried blood in your hair."

"Can you free yourself?" Remus asked.

He shook his head, "Can't do wandless magic, I'm afraid." Positive he was a sight between bloody scratches across his chest and the torn clothing, he blushed. He hoped the hold didn't smell of sex; there was little chance that Lupin had missed the exchange between himself and Shacklebolt.

"What do you expect me to do?" Lupin asked, rolling his shoulders a little inside the ropes.

"Nothing, we can't do anything. Yet. I just wanted to make sure you're all right."

Sirius was confident of his crew; he pulled his first mate, Podmore, into the great cabin to finalize their plans.

"Take whatever you find that you want for swag. I have to find one man, he should be a prisoner, answers to Weasley."

"I know 'em, all redheads and freckles. Which one?"

"The oldest son, Bill."

Podmore nodded, "I'll distract them as I can, captain."

"You're a good man, Podmore. Thank you."

With nothing to do but wait, Sirius stayed at the helm reciting spells, preparing himself. His ship, the _Marauder_ , was fast, probably the fastest on the seven seas. Malfoy didn't stand a chance as she lurched forward, the wind catching her full sails. 

They had maybe an hour before they overtook Malfoy and his brigands.

"Stun them," Malfoy said, "and hide them."

Nodding sharply, Kingsley pulled his wand from the waist of his breeches and slid down the ladder to the hold. It was the first time he'd heard fear in his captain's voice. Kingsley didn't know all the history, but he knew enough to realize Malfoy and Black had a grudge against each other. This attack from Black wasn't simply about the prisoners in the hold, or the treasure. It was something personal.

Weasley was leaning against the wall, head lolling to the side as he slept while Lupin was squirming across the deck.

"What's your problem?" Kingsley asked, prodding him with his foot.

"Need to pee," he answered, his voice muffled.

Sighing, Kingsley sheathed his wand and rolled him over toward the chamber pot. 

"My hands would help," Lupin said. 

"No such luck," Kingsley said, loosening his breeches for him and, frowning, bent him around for a better direction. The things he had to take care of for prisoners. 

"I hope Weasley doesn’t wake up and see this," Lupin said, humor evident in his voice. 

"Nothing I haven't done for him either."

"I can think of a few things I've already witnessed I expect doesn't go with the territory, Shacklebolt."

Instead of responding that what he did with Weasley was no one's business, Kingsley rewrapped his ropes – tight – and rolled him into a corner behind the barrels of grog.

Holding a still-sleeping Weasley with one arm, he used his wand to unlock the manacles and propped him across his chest to undo the other side. Something wasn't quite right with the way that Weasley's head lolled about and concerned, Kingsley shook his jaw, trying to wake him.

"Weasley?" he said, shaking him again. "Bill!" he said sharply, slapping his face. 

"Gideon," he muttered before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

He heard Lupin's muffled laughter and wished he was close enough to kick the git for good measure. Dropping a blanket over Lupin, he gently set Weasley down on top of him, wondering who the hell Gideon was.

Overtaking Malfoy's ship as night fell, Sirius and his crew attacked with finesse and careful planning. As Podmore and two others kept Malfoy busy, Sirius snuck into the hold and found an unconscious man sprawled in a corner.

Carefully picking him up, Sirius hastened back to the _Marauder_ with his treasure. Holding Malfoy's crew back with wands and the ship's cannons, Sirius dropped Weasley on the deck and waited for Podmore and the crew to return. 

With one magically aimed blow from the cannon, they shredded the main mast on Malfoy's ship as the _Marauder_ escaped with their precious Gringotts treasure. It was strange to think of the man on his deck – almost Sirius' age – as treasure. However, his rescue meant several Galleons to Sirius, and that was what the crew wanted. 

Releasing the owl the goblins gave him, Sirius picked up the unconscious man and carried him to his cabin, settling him in a hammock. He was warm to the touch and Sirius, worried, called in the healer to look at him.

"It's nothing some water and food won't heal," Bones said finally. "He's worn out and malnourished, from the looks of his wrists he's been constantly chained the past two weeks. There's a few bruises on his shoulders and hips that look like teeth or finger prints, I questioned him about any personal abuse, but Weasley swore there was none. He should heal quickly."

"Thanks, Edgar," Sirius mumbled, taking a swig of rum as he ushered the healer out of his cabin. 

The following morning, Podmore knocked on the cabin door, bringing in a tray of food for Sirius and Weasley.

"Captain?" he said, setting it down and moving the blanket that covered Weasley, "How's our swag doing?"

"See for yourself," Sirius said, yawning, "I'm sure he's starving, Bones said he looked underfed."

"I’m sure Malfoy's bastards didn't treat him…. Er, Captain?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't Bill Weasley."

"What do you mean?"

"He _looks_ like a Weasley, with the red hair and freckles and all, but this isn't Bill."

The man on the hammock opened his blue eyes, looking confused, "Where am I?" he said, slurring his words. Podmore handed him a container filled with grog and Weasley – or whoever he was – took a deep sip and choked on it before swallowing.

"Who are you?" Sirius demanded, suddenly nervous, thinking he rescued the wrong man from Malfoy's ship.

"Bill was sick, couldn’t take the trip. I went instead of him."

"Are you his brother?" Sirius asked.

"Where am I?"

"Aboard the _Marauder_ , a privately owned ship rescuing you for Gringotts. I’m the first mate and this is Captain Sirius Black. Where's Bill Weasley?" Podmore said.

"Home in England, I'd assume. I'm his uncle. Name's Gideon Prewett. "

Sirius held up one hand, forgoing Podmore from speaking any more. He already knew how his crew would react once they learned the truth. Gringotts wouldn't pay for Weasley's uncle once they learned that their employee was safe in England. 

"Podmore, not a word of this leaves this room, understand?"

"Aye, Captain," he said, escaping quickly.

Shoving the food toward him, Sirius sat in a chair, bare feet propped on the edge of the table.

"What's wrong?" Weasley – Prewett – asked.

"Gringotts hired me to rescue their kidnapped curse breaker. Not his uncle."

"They'll never pay for me," Prewett said, nodding in agreement.

"Oh bugger," Sirius mumbled.

Gideon sat bolt upright, "What about Lupin? Where is he?"

"Lupin?" Sirius asked, "Lupin who?"

"Remus Lupin, he was in the hold with me."

Gideon had never seen someone's face transform so quickly through so many expressions.

"Tell me everything," Black demanded.

Relating what happened, and how he was positive – _really_ \- that is had been Remus Lupin in the hold with him, Gideon realized he was very confused as Captain Black began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath.

"This will work," he said, turning back around to Gideon.

"What will work?"

"I'll tell them that there's more treasure to be had if we reach the island. Then we can chase Malfoy down and get Lupin off that damn ship."

Confused, but unwilling to tell him that, Gideon simply said, "Okay."

"Well, you don't expect me to leave Remus there, do you?"

"Of course not," Gideon began, then bit his tongue. It suddenly made sense - the captain had to know Lupin. Instead of returning to England, they would chase Malfoy. "How do you know him?"

"I've… worked with him before," Black said without looking at Gideon. Narrowing his eyes, Gideon knew an evasion when he saw one, he opted to accept the captain at his word. Who was he to question Black?

Kingsley had three crewmembers mending the sails. He'd already ordered the damaged lines replaced and magically braced the mainmast at first light. Malfoy hadn't emerged from his cabin yet, but the men were already fearful. Kingsley liked it, fear made them work faster.

He purposely didn't consider his actions once he regained consciousness and made it to the hold. Lupin lived still, but Weasley was gone. Malfoy had been convinced that Sirius Black led the attack and Shacklebolt, who had never met the man, didn't contradict him. 

It was possible that someone paid very well to have the curse breaker rescued, which meant Gringotts. 

Malfoy would be in a _foul_ mood. 

He removed the ropes and put Lupin in the manacles that Weasley had escaped. Kingsley cast _Silencio_ as soon as Lupin asked, with a smirk, whether or not he was expected to fill the rest of Weasley's role as well.

Repairs on the _Marauder_ took the entire morning. Gideon sat on the bowsprit, staying well out of the way as he watched, fascinated with the magic and skills involved with running the ship. Black and Podmore made a good team, and the crew seemed content. unlike Malfoy's ship who were ruled by fear.

Biting into a hard piece of something – Black had called it food – Gideon jumped when he heard a popping noise and someone Apparated next to him. He looked up to see a slightly younger version of himself, with more freckles, longer hair and a dragon tooth earring.

"Hello, uncle," he said as Gideon squinted his eyes at him.

"You must be the real Bill Weasley." Black said as he approached and pointed at the dagger Bill held in his hand, "Using a portkey to get here wasn't very savvy."

Bill stuck a hand out, "I understand you rescued my uncle. Our thanks for that." Bill dropped the dagger into Gideon's lap, who scooped it up and tucked it into the top of his breeches.

"Didn't need rescued," Gideon muttered under his breath, "I wasn't in any real danger."

Both men laughed at him. Damn, Gideon hated wizards. 

"Only of death once they learned the truth," Bill said. "I’m sorry, uncle, for doing that to you."

"It wasn't any worse than my real job," Gideon said, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, you're my nephew, you shouldn't have to be in danger."

"Good man," Black said, nodding toward Gideon.

"Why are we chasing them again?" Bill asked Black.

"I have to pay my crew somehow, and there's treasure on that island."

" _Cursed_ treasure."

"Not planning on touching the cursed bits, mate. Just the rest of the swag."

"All right," Bill said, frowning as if he didn't believe him.

"And Lupin," Gideon said, hiding a smile, "We have to rescue Lupin."

"Definitely, I can't leave Remus with Malfoy."

"How do you know him again?" Gideon asked, casually brushing Bill's arm, silently telling him to _pay attention_.

"He's an innkeeper, I stayed there often."

"I had the impression you've been in Azkaban, Black, not hiding out in an inn."

"It was a long time ago, Weasley."

"Azkaban?" Gideon asked.

Black laughed hard enough to lose his breath, "How can you not know about Azkaban, Prewett?"

Bill shook his head, changing the conversation, "I've met Lupin before, but it's been a long time. Remind me again?"

Sirius smiled, glancing up at the sails, staring off into memory. "He's a bit shorter than myself and thin as the mizzenmast. He has plain brown hair that's hard to remember, and sharp, brown eyes that are hard to forget. He's an innkeeper, so he looks off balance with empty arms. I haven't seen 'im for a few years, but I don't imagine he's changed much."

Bill didn't say anything, but exchanged a significant glance with Gideon. 

"What do I need to do, Bill?" Gideon asked when it became obvious that Black was lost in his thoughts.

"Trade Lupin for me," Bill said easily.

"Not you - Prewett," Black said.

"They'll kill him," Bill said, shaking his head.

"Not right away, and I may have some protection in that quarter," Gideon said, refusing to explain when Black questioned him further.

Black nodded, "We need you, Bill, you're the only chance we have at fooling them. Give your uncle what he needs to stall Malfoy and we're figure out a way to rescue him."

"I need a wand," Gideon said.

"Why?" Bill asked as Black nodded, "I've some below. Did you lose yours?"

Gideon grinned, but didn't answer.

Kingsley was in a foul mood. Malfoy had been furious to lose the curse breaker and damn near found an excuse to flog Kingsley for it. He had barely escaped, thankfully Malfoy took his anger out on the poor fool that let the _Marauder_ approach without fair warning.

Irritated, Kingsley spent his free time overseeing the few minor repairs left. He wasn't thinking about Weasley, or his sudden abstinence now that Weasley was gone. 

He'd stolen the manuscripts that talked about the cursed treasure years ago, and it was a total coincidence that he had overheard Malfoy one day discussing pirating and ways to rule the sea. What better way to rule the ocean than be unable to die?

Kingsley had discovered that the Blacks had the compass, and Malfoy, already married to Narcissa, easily found it. Malfoy had told Kingsley one drunken night that it hadn't taken long to kill her and blame Sirius Black. It must have worked well, Kingsley thought, Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban for murder while Malfoy was still free.

There had been rumors almost two years ago concerning Black. First that he escaped, then that he died. Kingsley had heard them and had given them no credence. No one escaped from Azkaban.

Today, he was questioning that. Malfoy was convinced that Black himself had led that raid. Kingsley didn't know, but Malfoy was worried, and that had never happened before. If it were true, then Black would chase them to the end of the world and back. They would never be free.

"Shacklebolt!" Malfoy yelled, sending Kingsley skittering for the helm. "Why are they back?" he asked, handing him the spyglass. 

Black's ship – if indeed it was Black – was in the horizon again. "Maybe for the other bloke in the hold?" he asked, gesturing toward the hold.

"It has to be," Malfoy said. "Guard him well, and don't give him up."

 _Obviously_ , Kingsley thought. They had plenty of time before they were caught, and knowing Malfoy, he'd cast a spell or two to increase their speed. Malfoy pointed toward the hold, "Step lively, Shacklebolt."

For the first time in months, he had nothing to do but watch a prisoner. Remus opened his eyes as Kingsley settled on the floor in front of him. 

"You could loosen my chains, you know, I'd love to sit."

Kingsley just looked at him, but didn't speak. Weasley had been terrified that first night, demanding to know what the lunar phase was, and Kingsley frowned as he watched Lupin.

He squinted, looking closely at his arms and realized that several of the deep scratches had faded. Frowning in thought, he stood up and moved closer. Lupin, eyes widening as he watched him, shook his arms about, making it hard for Kingsley to study them.

Muttering under his breath, Kingsley grabbed one of the manacles and held it still. There, beneath the steel cuff, were faded marks. As he looked closer, he saw several other bite marks, all old with age and faded, barely showing against his pallid skin.

"You're a damn werewolf!" he said, whipping his wand out and pointing it toward Lupin's neck. Kingsley gave him credit; he didn't whine or beg, he only pursed his lips and frowned at him, as if Lupin wasn't a breath away from dying. "So I am, but you can't kill me."

"Give me a one good reason why."

Lupin looked around, "Are we safe down here?"

"I'm safe enough from the likes of you," Kingsley said with a sneer.

"Not me, from your captain."

Sighing, Kingsley cast a quick spell on the hold, cutting off all noise from the outside. "All right, explain yourself."

Remus nodded, "Because I'm the only one who knows the truth."

"What truth?"

"The truth of who you are," he whispered, leaning closer. "The truth of why you work for Lucius Malfoy."

With a furious roar, Kingsley grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the wall. "You know nothing about who I am, dog. Nothing." Remus didn't struggle in his grip, he calmly watched Kingsley until he let him go and stepped back.

"Who do you think sent you on this mission? If you kill me, you'll die Malfoy's man."

"I am no traitor."

Remus nodded, "I know you are not. I only tell you this to make sure you protect me. It's vital I live – that _you_ live."

Kingsley considered the truth of his words; no one really knew why he was there. It had been a very secretive mission that he'd been assigned years ago. Very well, I agree."

"Are you sure about this, uncle?"

Gideon nodded, "You need to be free, this curse needs broken, and I'm expendable. I'm sure."

"You're my family, Gideon, you're not expendable."

"All will be well, Bill. I can feel it in my bones."

"Are you suddenly a seer to know such things?" Bill asked, his laughter terrible.

"Don't fret, Bill, I'll be fine."

"Just tell me what to do, how to act until you arrive, that's all I need."

"I don't know."

"What do you usually do when investigating a curse?"

"Wave my wand, mutter, pace a little, cast a few spells…"

Gideon put a hand on his shoulder, "That's all I needed to know, thank you."

"Be safe."

"Always."

He left Bill in Sirius' cabin and joined Sirius at the helm as they slowly closed the distance between the two ships.

"When will you catch up?" he asked.

"By nightfall."

"How will you get Lupin back?"

"I'll lose."

"Pardon me?"

"Get some sleep, Prewett. Let me worry about the details."

Sirius waved him away and turned toward Podmore. His first mate watched Prewett walk away before speaking.

"It's not worth going after him, Captain. He's expendable, we can let him go once we get Lupin aboard."

Sirius nodded, he agreed it was foolish to pursue Malfoy once they had Lupin. The bastard deserved to die – and once Sirius had proof that he wasn't guilty of killing Narcissa, he would do it himself. However, he was sure there would be a better option than pursuing this one.

"Shacklebolt!" Malfoy yelled from the deck above. Kingsley ran out of the hold and didn't stop until he stood at Malfoy's shoulder.

"Sir?"

"Wand at the ready?" he asked, indicating with a nod of his head that the other ship was close enough to attack.

"Yes, sir."

Malfoy glared at him, "If they take him, your life is forfeit."

Kingsley nodded, "I understand."

Instead of standing shoulder to shoulder with his crewmembers, Kingsley skulked back into the hold to guard their lone prisoner. While he knew it was important, he was confidant enough to know he best served his crew standing in the forefront, not guarding one prisoner. 

However, he followed orders. Even when he heard the thuds above him of his comrades, falling to childish jinxes or the cries of the other crew avoiding the Unforgivable curses that Malfoy tossed about freely.

Kingsley paced back and forth in the hold, feeling useless. Eventually there were only four or five voices still yelling, and readying himself, Kingsley stood in front of Lupin as the hatch was thrown open.

Malfoy nimbly floated down the stairs, followed by three men. He backed closer to Kingsley, the two of them guarding Lupin side by side.

The man in front, with long black hair and a feral look on his face sneered. 

"You're cornered, Malfoy."

"Not quite," he said quite pleasantly, as if they discussed which tea to serve and no one was holding wands in front of them, waiting for their captain's approval to cast another curse.

"Give me Lupin," he said

"I'll kill him first."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I have nothing to lose, Black, you're the escaped convict, not me."

So it _was_ Sirius Black before him. Kingsley stepped closer to Lupin, who was standing very still, smirking at Black.

"Since I'm feeling so magnanimous today, I'll make you a trade, Sirius."

"I'll take what I want and be done with it."

"You will not," Malfoy said, his voice cold. "Half your crew is unconscious – or dead - on my deck. You'll never get them back to your ship with this prisoner. And you need your crew more than you need this one man. Besides, I have a fair trade to make."

"Name your terms," the man next to Black called out. 

"You may take your crew and this prisoner, but give me back the curse breaker. I only want Weasley."

Kingsley started, that surprised him.

Black stood still for a moment, thinking.

"It's the best option you'll get, Black."

Motioning with his free hand to the man next to him, Black nodded. The man Apparated and returned seconds later with Weasley.

"Shacklebolt?" Malfoy said, but he was already walking forward. 

Kingsley took Weasley by the chin and turned his face toward him, tampering down his excitement at touching Weasley again. He nodded, "It's him."

Malfoy and Kingsley, prisoner held tightly in his arms, backed away as Black jumped forward and cast a spell to unlock the manacles. The first one didn't work and Kingsley smiled, knowing it wasn't that simple. It took Black too more spells to get it right. Lupin collapsed in his arms, then stood shakily on his own feet, yet Black didn't let him go.

They backed out of the hold, Black and Lupin going first with a crack of Apparition, while the other two scurried up the ladder. Several subsequent cracks meant they took their crew back to their own ship.

Malfoy turned toward Kingsley, "Put him in your cabin."

Surprised, but unwilling to question it, Kingsley nodded. He took Weasley by the arm and yanked him out of the hold.

Gideon walked calmly with him, content he wasn't getting put back into the chains. Of course, since Malfoy wanted his help, he had to be a little nicer. Gideon wondered how much he had figured out about him and Shacklebolt. Shaking his head, he realized he didn't care, as long as he was unchained.

Kingsley closed the door behind them, spelling it locked. His cabin was small and plain, but it was his own and he was thankful for it. Especially this day. "Chamber pot's in the corner, the mirror is spelled to not break, so don't try it. The cot pulls down from the latch in the center, but don't use it unless you plan to share it. I assume you washed aboard Black's ship?"

Gideon nodded. He'd washed immediately – it had been his first request actually. 

"Need food?" Kingsley didn't want to leave the cabin. Weasley stood in the middle of the room, running one hand through bright red hair. He was clean and dressed; wearing tight brown breeches that were a little too long and covered his bare ankles. The while shirt was partially undone in the front and showed a smooth chest barely sprinkled with freckles. Shrugging, Gideon didn't answer him. "Right, I'll be back then," Kingsley said, happy for any excuse to escape and talk to the captain. He found Malfoy at the helm, guiding the ship with the compass.

"Done already, Shacklebolt? That surprises me," Malfoy said with an evil grin. "I took you for a seducer."

"Right. About that. Why do you want him in my cabin?"

"He needs to feel comfortable. We need him. I understand you've taken an interest in him, see if he returns it."

Malfoy gave his attention to the compass again and minutely adjusted the helm. "Let him think you care for him, Shacklebolt, it might mellow him."

Kingsley grinned, that was an order he didn't mind following. 

Taking one plate heaped with food, Kingsley returned to his cabin with a bottle full of rum. Weasley had been sitting on the edge of the bed, but jumped up when Kingsley opened the door. He leaned against the wall and opened a small chest with books in it.

They were the only books Kingsley willingly kept aboard Malfoy's ship since they dealt with Wizards and celestial navigation and the like. He took a swig of rum and sat on the bed that Weasley had vacated.

"Sit and eat," Kingsley said.

Hungry, but unwilling to be close to him, Gideon sat on the far corner of the narrow bed, leaning back. He took some food and ignored Kingsley to eat.

Kingsley handed him the bottle and Gideon took a long drink of the rum, not gagging at all.

Impressed, Kingsley took the bottle back and licked the mouth of it, causing Weasley to blush and look away. Grinning, he took another small drink and set it on the table. Not hungry, he set the whole plate down and moved closer to Weasley, who blushed some more and looked anywhere else.

Kingsley took another drink and, holding the bottle by Weasley's mouth, tipped it up for him. He glared for a moment, and then slightly opened his mouth, accepting the rum. Purposely tipping it too far, Kingsley grinned as it ran over, spilling out his mouth and down his chest. 

"My mistake," Kingsley mumbled, setting the bottle down and Weasley gasped as the cold liquid dripping down his chest. Before Weasley could stand up, Kingsley pushed him back on the bed, and rolled on top of him, knees bent on each side of Weasley's hips, and licked the rum off his chin.

"What are you do…" Kingsley licked Weasley's lips and, as he gasped, stuck his tongue inside. 

Gideon would gladly take the hold and its chains to avoid this contact with Shacklebolt. He didn't understand why his heart raced at the touch, or why his cock responded quicker to Shacklebolt than any woman in his past. He wished he could blame his desire on the rum that he sucked from Shacklebolt's tongue. 

However, when Shacklebolt pulled his mouth away, Gideon whimpered involuntarily, then covered his mouth at Shacklebolt's smug expression. He quickly forgot all else when he felt Shacklebolt's tongue lapping up the trails of rum on his bare neck.

Not noticing how his shirt came off, all he knew was that his skin prickled in the cold, only warm where Shacklebolt touched him. Gasping for air, he scrambled for a steady foothold as warm fingers undid his breeches and shoved them out of the way, and then an even warmer – wet – mouth enveloped him whole. 

He bit his tongue to keep from moaning, hands smacking against the hull as he felt Shacklebolt suck him. When he thought he could handle no more, one slick finger slid inside him, the tip rubbing against something that made his eyes roll into the back of his head from pleasure. 

No woman had ever made him feel like that. 

He could feel another finger pressing at the edge of his skin and tensed until Shacklebolt began humming, the vibrations close to making him come. Whimpering from the sensation, he didn't notice the second finger enter him.

Eyes closed, he opened them as fingers and tongue withdrew and Shacklebolt changed his position, hovering over him. "What are you doing?" Gideon asked as Shacklebolt rubbed something on his cock.

Kingsley didn't answer, it was obvious, and from the way Weasley had been whining beneath him, he wouldn't stop Kingsley. Damn, he'd dreamed of taking Weasley like this in his bed, writhing and willing while he watched with wide eyes. He'd taken Weasley in the hold, but not like this, with him trembling and untied beneath Kingsley. They had all the time; Malfoy had told him to seduce Weasley, and Kingsley meant to. 

Too bad their first few times hadn't been like this, but Kingsley knew he could make up for them. Eventually, Weasley would forget the old pain and settle for this pleasure. 

"I'm going to fuck you, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Am I to be your cabin slave then?"

Kingsley pulled his legs apart and up – ignoring that comment. Weasley might whine, but he didn't fight him. Of course, he had no where to run, shoved into the corner of Kingsley's bed, legs help up in the air, Kingsley's cock pressed against his arse. 

Kingsley slowly pushed inside, watching Weasley take a deep breath, trying to adjust. His cock wilted immediately, but Kingsley didn't mind, it just meant he could go slower, make it last longer. 

"Breathe deep, relax," he mumbled.

"Easy for you to say," Weasley complained, then moaned again as Kingsley rubbed against that spot inside. Letting go of his legs, Kingsley leaned forward and pushed in slowly again. Weasley wrapped his legs around Kingsley and pulled him in deeper.

Gently taking Weasley's cock in his hand, Kingsley rubbed it, making Weasley harden again. With a smirk, he pushed in and out, fingers gliding across Weasley's skin in time to his movements. Kingsley was enjoying this more than he expected. Apparently, Weasley was as well, he grinded his teeth to remain silent, back arched off the bed beneath him while his hands clenched the rough sheets.

"Come for me," Kingsley mumbled, moving faster while he rubbed his thumb across the head of Weasley's cock. With a grunt, he finished, his hand catching most of Weasley's come as well. He wiped it off on Weasley's stomach, grinning at him while he did it.

Putting both hands on the bed, one on either side of Weasley's head, Kingsley leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Weasley looked away and didn't answer him.

Remus endured the myriad of colorful curses emanating from Sirius as he washed him. Feeling much like a child, Remus sighed deeply and told Sirius _one more time_ that he was fine and to stop fretting. "We need to catch Malfoy's ship, Sirius."

"We're not going after Malfoy, I'm taking you home."

Remus whipped his head around, grabbing Sirius' hands. "What was that?"

"We're not going after Malfoy, not until you're home."

"Like hell we're not," Remus said, suddenly angry. "We can't let that treasure fall into his hands. What if Weasley finds a way to break the curse? Malfoy will be invincible."

"He won't find a way because he's not Weasley. It's one of the Prewett brothers, Weasley's uncles. Bill is safe on this ship."

Remus nodded, he's known that but played along while in Malfoy's clutches. "Gideon is one of the Order's informants, he's a good man. It took me a few minutes to recognize him at first because he looks just like Fabian – and a lot like Bill. I will _not_ sacrifice him. What do you think Malfoy will do when he learns the truth? He'll kill him. And I need Prewett alive for other reasons as well. Sirius, we need back on that ship. He's not the only informant I have there, it's vital they both get free."

Surprised, Sirius looked at him, unsure what to say, "You've changed, Remus."

"I _had_ to change, Sirius. You were sent to Azkaban, remember? Someone had to become Dumbledore's right hand man with you gone. Everything I've done, I've done to help you clear your name. We're so close, Sirius, so close."

"Let me take you back first…"

Running one finger down the side of Sirius' face, Remus smiled, "I stay with you, here."

He waved his wand and called a towel to him, then stepped out of the wide barrel and dried himself. 

"Wait! What were you doing on a ship? You don't like ships," Sirius asked.

"I recently heard about a rogue pirate captaining a ship called the _Marauder_ , not long after news reached me you escaped and died. What do you think I was doing? I was searching for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, Sirius, for you. Everything I do lately is for you."

"Remus. I wanted to find you, to tell you. However, until I clear my name, it was hopeless. I can't drag you down with me. You wouldn't survive Azkaban. It would kill me if they sent you there."

Smiling sadly, Remus wrapped the towel around his thin body and held a hand out to Sirius, pulling him to his feet, "I'd survive. I'm stronger than you think, Sirius."

Unable to wait any more, no longer caring what Remus thought, Sirius pulled him into his arms and they stumbled backwards toward his bed. When Remus didn't protest, Sirius smothered him in kisses, laying him gently down.

"I can stay?" Remus asked between kisses. Sirius nodded.

"And you'll track down Malfoy's ship so we can clear your name?" Sirius nodded again, anxious to begin remembering Remus. He had forgotten too much in the three years he had been in Azkaban. 

"Who's running the inn while you're here?" Sirius asked, hands meandering lower. He was torn between wanting to talk to Remus and needing to make love to him. 

"Some friends of mine, they often help when I'm not feeling well or if I have to travel. I have to make short trips often and they watch it then for me." Wriggling beneath him, Remus lifted his hips as Sirius pulled off his breeches.

"This isn't a short trip," Sirius said, amazed that Remus could answer him coherently considering where his hands were.

"I called in some favors for this, I'm going to owe them." 

"Good," Sirius gave up and stopped him from talking with a kiss.

Hoping that Sirius was done with the _interrogation_ for now, Remus gasped as Sirius gently pushed his legs apart, he'd missed this. Amazed how quickly they fell back into each other's arms, and bed, Remus decided he shouldn't think about it. In the end, no one mattered to him the way Sirius mattered. 

Remus opened his mouth to accept it, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius. This wasn't new for them, but it had been rare. Remus had never felt this way with another person his whole life. It was amazing how Sirius made him want to talk about his secrets. 

_Some day_ , he promised himself. It wouldn't be that hard, some people already knew. He'd had to tell Gideon years ago since Prewett was a Squib and unable to comprehend the danger. 

However, Sirius' kisses made him forget about Prewett and Shacklebolt, and then Sirius' wandering hands made him forget the last three years.

Gideon awoke in an empty bed, rags and a full basin of water near him. Thankful he didn't have to see Shacklebolt yet, he washed quickly, dressing in different clothes yet again. They couldn't have been Shacklebolt's, he was taller and wider and these fit him surprisingly well. The gray shirt didn't have laces in it, it hung open on his chest and the black breeches were tight, but the material was soft, slippery. It felt decadent. Either way, Gideon didn't want to think about who had died to give him clothes. Which might be an exaggeration. However, it didn't hurt to remember that he was alone amongst thieves and murderers.

Lupin being here had reassured him, because like Bill, he knew the truth Gideon hid. Gideon had worked for him for years and was comfortable with Lupin, no matter his furry problem. 

Besides, Lupin accepted Gideon's shortfalls in the wizarding world. Gideon thought it was lucky that he and Fabian looked enough alike to trade places when needed. Without his brother's interference, he would have been cast out of their home as a child. 

The door swung open and Kingsley entered, carrying the wand that Gideon had when he came back aboard. 

"We're here, let's go."

The crew formed two loose lines on both sides of the ship, waiting to go ashore. Gideon walked in front, directly toward Malfoy while Kingsley prodded his back every time he faltered. He felt as if he was heading for the gallows – or a plank. Calmly facing him, Gideon stopped moving an arm's length away, meeting Malfoy eye to eye. Gideon didn't flinch at his expression, but he felt like he looked at a carved statue more than a live person.

"You don't need to be told what will happen if you fail, do you?"

Gideon nodded, he expected they – probably Shacklebolt - would kill him the moment they realized he couldn't help him. Yet Bill was safe, which was all that mattered.

"Let's go!" Malfoy said. Apparently, he left all the intimidating up to Shacklebolt, not that one needed to _hear_ the words from Malfoy, he wore his threats openly.

Malfoy guided the rowboats by wand into an immense cave, filled with gold, silver, trinkets, gems, and whatever other swag the pirates had found through the years. It looked like they had been collecting treasure for decades. For a moment, Gideon wondered if Midas had died inside there.

All sorts of valuable metals were strewed across the ground, the cave itself looked like a king's treasury. Gold spilled over the sides of chests and other containers onto the ground and into the shallow stream that meandered through the cave like a golden waterfall. Gems varying in size from his fingertip to his palm were haphazardly scattered throughout, glittering in lamplight that Malfoy lit with a wave of his wand as they moved further inside. 

Shacklebolt ignored all of it, yawning as if he saw such things every day – and he might for all Gideon knew. He pushed Gideon through a path littered with trinkets, causing him to stumble twice, and then toward a hill literally made of treasure. Forcing Gideon to climb up it. Shacklebolt joined him, physically turning him around to make him look at Malfoy, pushing Gideon to his knees.

"There's your job, curse breaker. Fix it, and you shall live."

Slipping on the loose treasure, Gideon scrambled to his feet. He leaned over the chest, but didn't open it. Gagging on the stench, he absently took the wand Shacklebolt handed him and held it in his lap. He couldn’t read the writing and wondered if there was a spell that made it possible. 

"There's anti-Apparition spells in here, so don't bother to try," Shacklebolt said.

"Can you give me some space?" Gideon asked, beginning to feel nervous. 

Kingsley slid back down the small hill and waited. 

_What is that smell_? He wondered, and then realized death and decay emanated from the chest. He shuddered with revulsion, but he didn't speak. Standing up, he wandered around the chest, mumbling to himself, outlining some of the strange, gold, humanoid shapes on it, but didn't use the wand at all. 

He could hear Malfoy in the background, mumbling about old curses and treasure. Carrying on with his grandiose speech that soon they would have the best treasure of all, that nothing would stop them once they could touch the gold coins. 

He stopped after one complete circle with his back to Malfoy, Shacklebolt and the rest of them.

Tracing the outlines of the shapes and words on the chest, Gideon stalled, wondering what he could do to convince them the curse was broken. If they opened it anyway, maybe he could escape.

"Well, how do we get around it, curse-breaker?"

"It's done," Gideon said, "you can open the chest."

"I can, can I?"

"Yes, it's done," Gideon said, beginning to feel beads of sweat form in his hairline.

Laughing manically, Malfoy climbed up the pile of treasure. He pushed his wand against Gideon's chest, emphasizing each word, "I believe you are lying to me, Weasley." 

"About what?" Gideon thought he had been prepared to die until that moment. He didn't look away from Malfoy, watching his mouth, waiting for the words that would kill him.

"The curse cannot be broken, the Aztec gods that made it put in provisions for that. If you tried to break it, you would be dead. You, Weasley, are a liar. I didn't bring you here to break the curse, I brought you here to tell me how to get around it."

"No, it was a simple thing to break. Aztec gods or not."

Laughing again, Malfoy backhanded him, Gideon's wand flying in one direction while he fell backwards over the chest. With a vicious kick, Malfoy pushed Gideon and the lid onto the ground.

"There is a simple way to test this. Weasley, take a coin."

Gideon shook his head, trying to clear his fuzzy brain. Did Malfoy tell him to take a coin?

"Shacklebolt, help him up."

Kingsley climbed up the pile and maneuvered to the other side of the chest. He picked Weasley up as if he was a rag doll and set him on his feet.

"Take a coin," Kingsley said, pointing his wand. When he shook his head, Kingsley sighed and cast _Crucio_ , counting to six while Weasley fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Kingsley picked him up again, still pointing his wand at him. "Take a damned coin."

Gideon grabbed the edges of the chest, forcing himself to stay on his feet. He hurt like hell, his vision blurring, but he suffered it in silence. 

Kingsley watched Weasley slowly pick up a coin as if he wasn't in pain. Amazing that – not many men could do that after an Unforgivable; not many men could suffer that kind of pain in silence.

Before Kingsley could react, think, or buy Weasley any more time, Malfoy picked up his wand and calmly cast _Avada Kedavra_. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out, Kingsley watched Weasley tumble down the backside of the pile. 

Closing his eyes, Kingsley turned around, unwilling to look again at the lifeless man as he fell to the ground, arm and leg partially in the water behind them. His face had been frozen with an expression of shock, his mouth slightly open; coin clenched tightly in his other hand.

Feeling numb inside, Kingsley promised himself – even if it felt empty for being too little done too late – that Malfoy would pay for the deaths he caused.

The men were grumbling, Malfoy spread his arms, waving them to gather their attention. "Fear not," he said, "We will solve the mystery of the Aztec treasure and…"

Malfoy left the treasure pile and the chest, hopping back across the rocks to walk among the crew, touching each of them on the shoulder. The crew loved him, they worshiped the ground Malfoy stood on, and they collected years of treasure for him, hording it until they knew what they could do with the Aztec gold and how it would best save them.

Kingsley didn't hear anymore. He'd heard enough through the years. He was exhausted. Malfoy needed justice, but he was tired of waiting for Lupin's signal that it was time to end this charade. 

The sound in his ears reminded him of thunder, Kingsley couldn't tell if it was anger or grief, it overpowered Malfoy's words, the crew's cheers and the sounds behind him of someone moving. 

_Wait, what was that_? He whipped around and saw four men grinning at him, each one was holding a finger to his lips, begging for silence. He recognized the straw-colored hair of Lupin, then the captain and his first mate. The fourth suspiciously looked like a younger version of Weasley. 

He was the one reading the side of the chest, "That explains what happened, it's cursed. Take a coin, each of you, and attack. It will probably hurt at first, but I'll figure it out afterwards."

"Kingsley," Lupin said, "Open the chest and take a coin. It's time."

Nodding, Kingsley looked at the crew again. They surrounded Malfoy, most likely commiserating about their misfortune. He slid the lid partially open – it _was_ time to end this. Five hands reached inside, each taking a coin.

He shut the lid and joined the crew at Malfoy's side, feeling reckless. He'd had enough, he found the proof necessary for Black to go free and Malfoy to go to Azkaban in his stead. 

Then he had to talk to Black and find out how in the hell he escaped – and make sure no one else did. If only Lupin had arrived five minutes ago, if only Weasley was still alive… he squashed the thoughts. His act was almost at an end, it was almost time to end the undercover work and become an Auror again.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the other four spreading out, trying to sneak around Malfoy's crew and get into positions of advantage. It would work, as long as the crew didn't see them.

Kingsley knew how to stop that. He leaned against one of the rock formations, pulling a dagger from his breeches and cleaned his fingernails. As soon as Malfoy took a breath between his long-winded rhetoric, Kingsley asked, "To whom do we owe this treasure?"

"Malfoy!" they yelled. 

"Who has led us these last few years? Hording our gold away to make us rich men in the future?"

"Malfoy!"

"Which man does the English navy fear the most? What man has the highest record of sunken ships? What man has escaped the noose more times than any of you can count?"

"Malfoy!"

Kingsley spun the dagger on his hand, raising it for all to see, "What man has kept us poor, unable to make port? Unwilling to give us our share of money to spend the few time we do reach safe harbor?" 

Kingsley pushed himself away from the wall, wading through the suddenly confused crew until he stood in front of Malfoy. "What man doesn't pay us, but lets us borrow against our share of the treasure when we make said harbor? What man tells us to wait, that eventually the curse will be broken, but hasn't broken it yet?"

"Malfoy!" the voices were not as strong or confident this time. Malfoy smirked at Kingsley but let him continue to speak.

"What man took us from our families, from our homes, and keeps us busy raiding and drunk? What man keeps the books about how much we owe him from our portside trips? Who alone knows how much treasure is here when it comes time to share it amongst the crew?"

The cheers turned to mutters and Kingsley smiled as he stood in front of Malfoy.

"What do you hope to gain by these words?" Malfoy asked, grinning at him.

"The truth. If you are so very clever, then tell the men how you charge them. Tell the men that they will see all this treasure once the curse is broken and know that one fifteenth of the treasure is theirs. Tell them you won't keep any of it as payment for charges to their account."

Malfoy smiled, and hell broke loose. 

Kingsley had bought them enough time to surround Malfoy's crew at the four points. They attacked, screaming jinxes and curses, falling most of the crew in the immediate confusion. 

Kingsley drew his wand, but had to duck as Malfoy drew faster and cast _Avada Kedavra_ at him, striking Goyle instead. 

Grinning, Kingsley saluted him and rolled away into the throng of bodies. They were confused and still thinking about whether Malfoy really meant to pay them and their fighting showed it.

He stood five feet away, hitting man after man with jinxes. Malfoy cast _Avada Kedavra_ again and Kingsley ducked then turned to see it strike Lupin.

Suddenly angry to watch another good man fall to Malfoy's wand, Kingsley roared with anger and stood. Black made his way to his side and they advanced on Malfoy, side by side. 

Laughing, Malfoy stood his ground, "Will you kill me, Black? Will you, Shacklebolt? 

"You are obviously savvy, Black, to escape from an inescapable prison. I could use a man like that by my side, one who thinks quickly, one as notorious as I am. You will never live among the purebloods again, there is no proof you did not kill my dearly loved wife. And you, Shacklebolt, over some man? A pureblood who would never stand by your side? No matter how eccentric the Weasley's are, you would never find acceptance among them."

Black stepped to the right as Shacklebolt moved to the left; they couldn’t afford to let one curse hit them both. 

"This is the end, Malfoy," Black said.

Laughing, Malfoy raised his wand and both Kingsley and Black as one raised their wands.

 _Avada Kedavra_ cast three voices as one.

Kingsley flinched as the cold green light splattered across his body, the cold seeping quickly through his body, freezing skin, then bone then blood and finally his heart until he could feel nothing and collapsed to the ground.

He opened one eye, then closed it quickly again, pain spiking through his skull. The rush of thunder faded and he could make out male voices around him. He could hear the tinkle of gold and the whisper of running water. Warmth gradually returned to his body.

"Shacklebolt? Are you all right?" asked someone who suspiciously sounded like dead Bill Weasley. 

Was he in heaven? 

He opened his eyes again and focused on the warm hands against his face. 

"There you are," Weasley said, smiling above him. Lupin's told me all about you, I'm afraid your career as an evil first mate has ended, Auror Shacklebolt."

"Lupin's here as well?' Kingsley asked.

"Of course he's here."

"Are we in heaven?"

He heard the mocking laughter of Sirius Black. 

"The likes of us don't end up in heaven, Shacklebolt."

Kingsley rolled to his side; he was on the ground, still in the cave of treasure where he had fallen. "I don't understand."

The young man with Black and Lupin grinned, and Kingsley shook his head; he really looked like Weasley. "The treasure was cursed by Cortez's gods. Whoever takes a piece of the treasure cannot die. After a time, you lose all feeling, food makes you sick, rum doesn't appease your need for drink, your skin loses the ability to feel touch."

"Who are you?" Kingsley asked.

"Bill Weasley."

Kingsley looked up into the blue eyes of the man he thought was Weasley, then who…

"Gideon Prewett, I'm Bill's uncle."

"You're not dead?" Kingsley asked, suddenly uncaring what his name was, even as he registered in the back of his mind that Prewett was still a pureblood. So he hadn't witnessed a death. Well, he had, but…

"No, I took a piece of gold before Malfoy killed me, remember?"

Kingsley frowned, unsure what to say to him. "How do we break the curse?" he asked.

"I'm working on that," the real Bill Weasley said. 

Lupin was lying on Prewett's other side, softly moaning and holding his head.

"You okay there, Lupin?" Gideon asked. 

"I survived _Avada Kedavra_?"

"All three of us survived it. Black and Podmore are arresting the crew. Malfoy is dead. Bill is trying to break the curse…"

"I got it!" Bill yelled out and Gideon grinning, tapping Kingsley on the head.

"Ready to be mortal again?" he asked.

Kingsley rolled off his lap and sat up, "If you are." 

Pulling each other to their feet, Gideon grinned at him. "I am. I don't fancy a life with no feeling in my skin," he slowly raked his eyes across Kingsley's body, "I don't think it's your preference either."

Returning the smile, Kingsley nodded, "I can think of a thing or two I'd like to feel."

"Gentlemen," Lupin said, stepping between them, "Please spare us your reunion. I'm sure some of the people here don't want to know about how you spend your personal time."

Gideon laughed at him, blushing, but lowered his voice, "Whatever, Lupin. As if your concern for clearing Black's name is for justice's sake alone."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at Lupin's blush, but didn't comment on it. Black and Podmore gathered the rest of the wands from the crew and joined Weasley near the chest.

"I'm not good at pontificating," Bill said softly, "so just let me say: _Begun by blood, by blood undone_."

With a flourish of the knife, he sliced his palm open and bled on the coin, dropping it back into the chest. Each man held his hand out, repeating the process and they stood there in silence, unsure what to do to test it when the lid from the chest suddenly slid closed with a bang.

Flinching, Gideon grimaced at it, "Bloody wizards and their magic."

Black looked around, his wand still pointed at Malfoy's crew, "We need to return to England, Shacklebolt, will you take the helm of Malfoy's ship? I'll send Podmore along to help you."

Kingsley nodded, "Aye, Cap'n." He paused, then turned toward Gideon, "Care to join me for the trip back?"

Kingsley didn't expect an answer. He assumed that Gideon might take the portkey back with his nephew. Yet when Gideon nodded, Kingsley was thrilled by his choice. He turned toward Bill, who shook his head. 

"I need to be in Cairo as soon as possible."

Podmore cast _Mobilicorpus_ , Malfoy's dead body following behind him. Kingsley stopped it long enough to take the compass from him, pocketing it before Black noticed. He winked at Gideon, who shook his head, but didn't say anything.

He glanced at Black, but the man hadn't moved yet, he was still watching Lupin.

Remus looked at Sirius, "Captain Black, permission to board with you?"

"Granted," Sirius said with a brilliant smile.


End file.
